


Don't You Forget About Me

by sardonicat



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (in like one scene but whatever), (it's really subtle and barely a thing though blink and you'll miss it), Alternate Universe, Be More Chill Big Bang, Breakfast Club AU, Chloe is Claire, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jake is Andrew, Jenna is Ashley but not, Jeremy is Brian, M/M, Makeouts, Misunderstandings, Rich is Bender, aka I like richjer and I'm pretty sure tbc is gay coded so I gave it the gay shit it deserved, all i'm saying is bender should've made out with brian, also don't worry it's not just the plot of the breakfast club I changed some things up, also joe iconis is the principal who does not make an appearance because I said so, and michael is meechee, oh and the squip is kinda Vernon but like... it's not really the squip at all, oooh that's a tag I've never used before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:38:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sardonicat/pseuds/sardonicat
Summary: Saturday, March 24, 2015.  Middle Borough High School, Red Bank, New Jersey. 60062.Dear Mr. Morris...we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, because what we did was wrong.  But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are, what do you care?  You see us as you want to see us… in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.  You see us as a nerd, an athlete, a gossip, a princess, and a criminal. Correct?  That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed…that's right, it's the breakfast club au that nobody asked for but I wrote it anyway! my (@whyamiheere on tumblr!) fic for the be more chill big bang.





	Don't You Forget About Me

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! soooo it's been quite a while but I've had this fic in the works since before whenever my last one is posted, and I'm so excited to share it with you all! this is my entry for the be more chill big bang (@bmcrbb on tumblr, check it out to see the others!) and it has a really lovely piece of art to go with it, which you can find here (link inserted later lol)! I hope you all enjoy!!

Don’t You Forget About Me

 

**Saturday, March 24, 2015.  Middle Borough High School, Red Bank, New Jersey. 60062.**

 

_Dear Mr. Morris...we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, because what we did was wrong.  But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are, what do you care? You see us as you want to see us… in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.  You see us as a nerd, an athlete, a gossip, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed…_

 

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**6:59 AM**

 

“Did you even _try_ to get me out of this? I’m not some kind of criminal, this is ridiculous. You _know_ Brooke and the girls will never let me forget this.” Chloe yanked her lunch bag from the floor of the car and clutched at the door handle. Really, this was a bit of bad luck. For once, she’d actually been caught and the principal was in a particularly bad mood that day, so the price was spending an entire Saturday with _real_ delinquents.

“Of course I did, sweetheart, you know how stubborn that Iconis man is.” Her dad rubbed his face and she could just _see_ the guilt building in his eyes. She could work with this.

“Didn’t seem too stubborn when you dragged me along to visit your new girlfriend for a week…” She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He let out a defeated sigh and sat back against the seat. “Come on, Chloe, it’s just one day. You and I both know that skipping school to go shopping doesn’t make you a bad person.” Chloe felt her fingers tighten on the door, almost involuntarily. “I love you.”

She swung the door open and left him with the click of her heels against the asphalt.

 

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**7:00 AM**

 

Jeremy felt himself retreating inwards as they pulled up to the school. He wondered if his mom would leave him to his own humiliation if he got out of the car fast enough. The second he felt her hit the brake, he unclipped his seatbelt and reached for the door, but there was no escape.

“Jeremy?”

He shrank. “...Yeah?”

“You know how I feel about this. The second you’re back at school Monday, you’re going to speak to your teachers about extra credit.” He thought he’d be numb to the ice in her voice by now, but it still stung. He nodded, but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Just so you know: that’s not a request. This goes on your permanent record and your grades are _not_ good enough to make up for it.”

“Okay, Mom.” He tentatively popped the door open, then scrambled to get out when she didn’t say anything else.

He almost wanted to laugh that he’d ever thought the worst day of his life was behind him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:01 AM**

 

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 3:00, okay?”

Jake felt like he could get a cavity from Christine’s sugary-sweet smile.

“Thanks for the ride, and the lunch... ” Jake mumbled. It was embarrassing enough that he was even here in the first place. He was a track captain, goddamnit; he was supposed to be the example.

“Hey, you know you can come over to visit anytime, right?” Christine kept smiling, but her eyes softened around the edges.

He couldn’t help but smile back at her, even if it wasn’t completely honest. He still had to miss a whole track meet to make up for his dumbass mistake, after all. “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Chris.”

“Alright, now go show this detention who’s boss! You’ve got this, buddy!”

Jake was still dreading the day as he stepped out of Christine’s car, bagged lunch in hand, and made his way up to the front door, but the warmth in his chest eased the feeling just a bit. Not many people could say they had a real friend behind them.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:03 AM**

 

Jenna’s car shuddered to a stop in front of the school. There was no point in putting off her torture any longer, so she immediately moved to open the door, only to find herself face to face with the school’s resident badass -- that psycho Goranski.

She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or not through the sunglasses resting in front of his eyes, but he shot her some finger guns through the window as he strutted by. Jenna could feel herself seething with… was it rage? Disgust? The tiniest hint of jealousy? She glanced up at him again as he stopped to spit in the bushes. _Decidedly not jealousy._ Still, it didn’t seem fair that a clear future inmate of the Red Bank prison could carry himself with the confidence of a preening peacock when she had to fight just to be looked at, let alone noticed.

She took a deep breath and once again reached to open the door. Better to blend in now and be noticed for actual accomplishments than high-school-famous as a troublemaker, right? Not that she was necessarily headed towards either in her current situation…

As she headed towards the school, she sent yet another text to Brooke.

 

**If I never get Saturday detention again it’ll be too soon. Goranski is here, so at least it should be interesting :P I’ll keep you updated.**

 

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**7:04 AM**

 

Jeremy shouldn’t have been surprised that Rich was here; as far as he knew, Rich had detention every day they could find someone to keep an eye on him. He was honestly more surprised that he hadn’t been expelled by now, especially after that time he set the toilet paper dispenser on fire while smoking in the bathroom. Still, none of that prepared him for actually seeing him in person again.

It wouldn’t be so bad. After all, he passed him briefly in the hall at least once a week, but it was the knowledge that he’d have to spend the entire day trapped in the library with him and just a handful of strangers that really rubbed salt in the wound. Maybe a month ago, that would’ve been the dream, but now… He grabbed a seat behind Jake Dillinger, hoping to God that his bulky form would be enough to hide Jeremy from sight.

Not two seconds later, the chair next to him was thrown backwards from the table. His eyes moved from the fingerless gloves all the way up to the soft, freckled curve of his cheekbones. Rich glared down at him, every inch of his face screaming _“Get away from me.”_

He didn’t see any reason to argue with that.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:06 AM**

 

**Five seconds in and Goranski has already chased that nerdy kid from AP Lit out of his seat. At least I have something to-**

 

Jenna didn’t have a chance to hit ‘send’ before her phone was snatched unceremoniously from her fingers. She looked up into the permanently spiteful face of the IT teacher, Mr. Morris.

“There’s no texting in detention, Rolan,” he scolded with a wicked smile. “I’m sure you could figure that out on your own, you’re a smart girl.”

She sat straight up in her chair and stared up at him with wide eyes. She knew better than to try and defend herself, but staying completely silent also seemed like a terrible option. Luckily, he saved her the pain of having to choose by moving forward with his cardboard box to collect the rest of the phones.

“As I was saying, it’s 7:06 AM here in Red Bank, and I drew the short straw to keep an eye on you for the next eight hours and fifty minutes. If it were up to me, I’d let you sit here the whole time and stew without your precious screens glued to your faces, but the school thinks you can use this time for a little self-discovery-” Across the room, Goranski began to raise his hand. “Not _that_ type of self-discovery, Goranski. The point is, you’re required to write a thousand word essay describing who you think you are. Given where we are, I’m pretty sure I could tell you that in a lot less, but I think that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own.”

Mr. Morris continued to ramble about the rules, but Jenna was starting to tune him out. _Who I am? Whatever’s useful to everyone else, I guess. I’m whoever they want me to be, who I am doesn’t really matter. Not yet anyway._ Of course, she couldn’t write that, not unless she wanted to end up here again next week.

She caught a swift movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Morris tucking a sharpie into his shirt pocket. Goranski was grinning down at a freshly-drawn dick on the table in front of him. _Well, at least I’ve got more substance than_ him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:09 AM**

 

It was safe to say that Jeremy had no understanding of Rich Goranski. He felt so much secondhand embarrassment just _watching_ him. Why would anyone go out of their way to bring attention to themselves like that? Why would he…

He caught Rich’s eye from across the room: he was glaring at him again. Logically, he knew Rich couldn’t hear his thoughts, but he felt the need to shut himself up anyway.

“My office is right across the hall, so if you try anything… Don’t. Any questions?” Mr. Morris turned on his heels to face the mismatched assembly of students.

“Yeah, I have one,” Rich smirked from the other table. _Here we go…_ “Do you and Weird Al go shopping together, or is he just your inspiration? Asking for a friend.”

“You know what, Goranski? I’ll let you know next Saturday.” He tossed him a sly grin. “I can get inside your head, you know. Kids like you can never get rid of me.” With that, he turned to head back through the open door to his office.

As soon as he left, Rich whirled around to address his fellow inmates. “That man is a _pill_ ,” Rich said. Jeremy resisted every urge to look up at him, focusing all his energy at staring down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him.

The thoughts swirled around his head like a waterbug trapped in the curving path of water in a creek. _Who am I? Well, I’m a weirdo nerd if you ask people from school. I’m a disappointment if you ask my mom… And if that wasn’t enough I’m the random bi kid who got caught making out with the class clown at a party I wasn’t invited to. I’m that loser who’s suddenly more alone than ever._

He glanced up from the paper, trying to find anything to focus on but _that_ thought. He slid the eraser of his pencil between his lips absentmindedly as he threw the mental steering wheel into a hard left turn. It would be so much easier to just bullshit this essay if he actually used his free time to participate in his own life, even if it was just something dumb like chess club, but there was just… nothing. He bit down harder on the pencil and started to unzip his coat.

It was the sharp movement from the other side that finally broke him, and he allowed himself a quick look over at Rich. The familiar burn of humiliation began to seep into his bloodstream as he noticed they were stripping off their jackets in perfect sync.

Jeremy froze and broke eye contact again and shrugged it back over his shoulders. No need to make things any worse by feeding the rumor mill, especially with Jenna Rolan sitting right behind him. A quiet but not quite subtle whistle cut through the air, and he risked yet another glance in Rich’s direction. Rich was staring straight at him, expressionless, almost as if he was looking through him instead.

To his horror, Rich sucked his bottom lip up between his teeth with the smallest wink. He realized he still had the pencil in his mouth and snatched it away with the skull-rattling sound of the metal bit grinding against his teeth. Suddenly, it was a lot easier to not look at Rich.

It was bad enough living with the knowledge that he’d probably outed and _definitely_ humiliated both of them when he’d let the alcohol break down the one fence he’d had left holding him back. It would’ve been bad enough just living with the knowledge of what happened in that closet, not knowing if Rich remembered what really happened or how he felt about it. It was the way Rich had picked up a habit of teasing him for show, letting everyone know that _Jeremy_ had come onto _him_ , and it wasn’t his fault. Last he heard, people were saying Jeremy had dragged him in, lust in his eyes, and Rich had pushed him off before it went too far.

Jeremy didn’t know what to believe anymore.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:19 AM**

 

Less than twenty minutes in, and Chloe was done with Goranski’s shit. Of course, she knew _why_ he acted that way: every guy in school was trying to compensate for something, but it had to take an overdose of attention to cover for a micropenis, but she couldn’t think of a single thing she’d done to warrant this one-sided pissing contest happening so _close_ to her.

God, why was she even here? _Who am I?_ she thought to herself. _I’m better than these idiots, that’s for sure. And I know what I’m_ not. _I’m not someone who belongs in whatever badly cast underdog movie this is. I’m the only one in this room who’s even worth a damn._ Well, that wasn’t fair. She’d practically forgotten that Jake was here -- he was unrecognizable without his Olympic gold-winning smile accompanied by constant chatter.

Whether or not he was acting like himself, Jake was still her saving grace. At the very least it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d gotten caught in Iconis’s wrath for something stupid on Friday. The asshole who pissed in his cereal that morning owed the two of them eight hours of their lives back. But Jake being there meant she wasn’t alone with the nobodies who populated the library this morning.

She dragged a sweeping glare around the room behind her, taking a second to register each person who was there. She couldn’t remember the name of the curly-haired boy with glasses to her left, but she recognized him from the back row of some of her classes. He was a quiet kid, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d gotten himself into to end up there. It must’ve been an inevitable side effect of getting swept into the wrong crowd, though. She flinched in surprise when she noticed the girl sitting behind him. _Isn’t that Brooke’s friend, Jenna?_ It wasn’t the fact that she was in detention that stood out -- she’d never seen that girl without a phone in her hand -- she just hadn’t recognized her before.

Speaking of the wrong crowd, the last person was, of course, Goranski. Chloe didn’t have to wonder why he was there; that energy was better spent stewing over the fact that she’d have to deal with him. Probably sensing the way his name had wedged into her brain, he caught her eyes and held her gaze there with a mischievous grin as he whipped his scarf off.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her paper.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:42 AM**

 

Jake clutched his pencil a little tighter as the crumpled remains of Goranski’s blank essay paper whizzed over his head, landing just short of the recycling bin by the door. He grit his teeth and looked down at his own blank paper, staring back at him from the table.

_Who am I? I’m the track captain, the whole team looks up to me. But… I let them down, or at the very least represented them worse than I ever have. I’m going to do better from here, and that’s a promise. I don’t need people to tell me what to do, I’m independent and I can make it out of here. This is just a wake-up call._

“Hey, you think Morris would notice if I stepped out for a smoke break?” A voice lisped from behind him. He fully intended on ignoring it, but he was forced to turn around when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder.

“What?” He really didn’t have an ounce of patience for Goranski today.

“I need a cigarette, can you cover for me in case Morris comes in?”

“If you take one step outside you’re not coming back in, I can promise you that.” He turned back to his paper, but a clicking sound from behind him caught his attention.

“Well, in that case,” Goranski shrugged and brought the open lighter to the tip of the cigarette in his mouth.

“You’re not seriously going to smoke in here.” Jake laid a fist on Goranski’s table and let his gaze drift across the hall, just to make sure Morris wasn’t watching them.

Goranski smirked. “Y’know, you’re pretty cute when you get worked up.”

Jake didn’t even know how to respond to that. They’d all heard the rumors about Goranski and some kid named Jeremy Heere, but the party had been at his own damn house and even he didn’t know what really happened there. The rumor mill had died down by now (at least in regard to that particular incident), but back when it was all anybody talked about, the consensus was inconsistent. Nobody had dared ask either of the boys about it -- it was speculated that the last person to ask Goranski too many questions disappeared.

“Hey, homeboy!” Goranski pointed to the skinny kid cowering at another table. “Do me a favor and close that door. Let’s see how much of this place will burn to the ground before Morris can pry his head out of his ass.”

“Knock it off!” Chloe snapped, finally whipping around to stare Goranski down.

Jake felt the whole room freeze as Mr. Morris called from across the hall, “What’s going on in there?”

He could’ve sworn an hour went by without so much as a twitch from any of them, but Goranski broke the silence to snicker at her. “You really think you can tell me what to do, princess?”

Jake instinctively reached an arm out to hold Chloe back. The last thing they needed was Morris on their asses because she’d clawed this jerk’s eyes out. He leaned into her ear and dropped his voice to a murmur. “Don’t give him the satisfaction, he’s just trying to piss you off.”

Goranski opened his mouth, presumably to hit him with another snide remark, but in the same moment Chloe lunged forward. For the longest moment, all he could hear in the library was the sound of her perfectly manicured nails digging into the wood of the table as she stood and bent over to get in Goranski’s face. “I _know_ he’s trying to piss me off, because that’s all he can do with his pathetic little life.” She straightened her back and turned away, stalking around the table towards Goranski like a housecat about to pounce. “You know what, Goranski? Not a single thing you’ve done has ever mattered to anybody. You waltz around like you’re this untouchable king, but face it: if you disappeared off the face of the earth, nobody would give a damn. You might as well not even exist.”

Goranski didn’t speak for a moment; Jake searched every inch of his face for some sign of anger, hurt, or any emotion at all, but he found nothing. He’d never seen someone look so… blank before.

And then it was gone. “Well,” Goranski said after a second. “Guess I’ll just have to join _track_.”

Jake couldn’t excuse what Chloe had said to him, but he couldn’t help but scoff at that.

“What’s the matter, _Prince Dillinger_? You don’t think I’m good enough to run with you guys- Hah! Literally!” He leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head so that the red streak through his hair glowed bright against his palms. “Then maybe I could join student council, or prom committee! I have these great theme ideas-”

“They wouldn’t want your sorry ass on the prom committee,” Chloe hissed.

“Awwwwwwww, why not?” Goranski feigned a sad expression before throwing his head back again in a malicious laugh.

Jake couldn’t listen to it anymore. “Cut it out you two, if you don’t shut up Morris will come back and slaughter us all. I can’t miss another track meet.” As if on cue, the sound of footsteps floated in from the hallway, and they all rushed to sit down. Goranski wore his usual sly grin and wedged his way between Jake and Chloe, posing like the picture of innocence in the center of the table.

The tension quickly subsided as Morris stepped past the library door without so much as a glance. Goranski took the opportunity to hop to his feet and rush to the door.

“What is he doing?” Jake whispered to Chloe.

“With any luck? Running off to go fuck himself.”

 

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**7:50 AM**

 

Jeremy wanted to call out to Rich, but he just couldn’t. There was a time not that long ago when he felt like he might have some idea what was really going on in his head, but now he felt like someone had come and mixed up the Rubix cube he’d finally solved by dumb luck. All of a sudden, the things he did didn’t make sense again. Mouthing off like that… making fun of the popular crowd… and now taking a stupid risk by messing with the door… and for what?

The door slammed shut in answer. Rich shuffled back to his seat, looking extremely self-satisfied.

“God damnit!” Morris’s voice cut through the silence, much to Rich’s amusement. The door swung open again and slammed behind him. Mr. Morris wasn’t the sunniest teacher at Middle Borough, but Jeremy had never seen him _this_ angry. “Why is that door shut?”

Rich looked up at him with the quiet smile of an angel.

“I don’t know, sir, we’re not supposed to move.”

Morris wasn’t having it, “Who closed that door?”

“I think a screw fell out…” If Jeremy didn’t know better, he’d think Rich had never told a lie in his life… Or that he’d just told so many lies it was emotionally the same as telling the truth for him. The latter was probably more likely.

Maybe he was just distracted by the inflection in his voice as he said the word “screw”.

“It just closed, sir.” Jake chimed in.

“Like hell,” Morris said, walking over to leer over Rich.

In a moment of panic, Jeremy let the words bubble up out of him, “N-no he’s been sitting there the whole time, sir. We’ve all just been sitting here, j-just like you told us.”

“Damn, he speaks.” Rich twitched an eyebrow in his direction. Jeremy instantly averted his eyes and kept them fixed on Morris, hoping that the rising blush in his cheeks wasn’t giving him away. He almost couldn’t bear to be this humiliated in front of popular kids.

But Rich was the only reason worth letting it happen.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**7:53 AM**

 

If it weren’t for the unmatched terror that Morris would turn to her for comment, Jenna would be grateful that something interesting was finally happening. Still, keeping tabs on the popular kids (and Goranski’s) drama wasn’t nearly as satisfying without a way to report it, so she’d taken to quietly jotting down all of the most compelling bits.

Above the surface of the table, she was still as ice, but her hands worked quickly in her lap, taking note of every significant move the others made. She wrote a little faster as Morris turned his glare on Jeremy Heere.

She’d never really noticed the kid before -- he wasn’t much to look at, both figuratively and literally, and she’d never heard him say more than a few words at a time -- but over the last month he’d caught her attention more than anyone at the school. After all, he was the kid who practically draped himself all over Goranski before they’d disappeared into a closet to do god knows what. Now that Jenna was looking at the twiggy boy again, it was hard to believe that this nervous kid could ever have the balls to do something like that. _Liquid courage,_ Jenna mused. _Makes my job miles more interesting._

Presently, he was gaping up at Morris in horror, as if he had no idea who’d just spoken up to defend Goranski. Even if Jeremy regretted it, it was quite the development to see him speak up for Goranski, or even acknowledge his existence really, now that he was completely sober. She’d thought their little… fling or whatever was long over by now.

“It just fell out, all on its own?” Morris sneered. Jenna was more grateful than ever that she wasn’t the one squirming in his loathsome glare.

“Y-yes, sir. It… must’ve been loose. Y’know, when we came in.” Jeremy stammered.

She could tell Morris wanted to argue, but instead he turned away in defeat and grabbed a chair from an empty table, placing it in the doorway.

Goranski half-heartedly raised a hand. “Sir, that won’t-”

Morris released the door, and once again it slammed shut, flinging the chair down the hall with the most _elegant_ screech. The room was divided into kids who moved to cover their ears and kids fighting to stifle a laugh at the sound of Morris’s frustrated groan carried in from the hall.

He flung the door open and pointed at Jake, who raised a questioning thumb to his chest. “Get up here, help me with this!”

Goranski gasped indignantly and slammed his fists against the table, “Hey! How come Dillinger gets to get up? If he gets up, we’ll all get up! It’ll be anarchy!”

Jake ignored him and stumbled up to the front and helped Morris to grab either end of a magazine cart, lifting it into the doorframe in place of the chair. Jenna snickered as she watched the two of them struggle, taking notes under the table. When they finally stopped moving, it served as a barrier between Jake in the hall and everyone else in the library.

“What if there’s a fire?” Rich piped up, grin widening. “I think violating fire codes and endangering the lives of children would be… unwise… at this juncture of your career, sir.”

Morris paused for a moment as Jake scrambled to climb back over the cart. He finally placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder, stopping him with one leg on either side of the frame. “What are you doing? Get this back inside.” More shuffling followed as they pried it from the door and pushed it back into its spot on the wall. Finally, they both stood in the library, mildly winded, with the door closed tight behind them. Morris lifted a weary finger and pointed at Jake again. “Sit back down. I expected more from a team captain.”

When Jake was settled, he turned his attention back to Goranski, who couldn’t hide his amusement any more. “I’m done with your games, Goranski. The next screw that falls out will be you.”

Goranski’s face fell and he muttered unintelligibly as Morris turned away. Morris froze in his tracks and turned back, “Did you have something to say to me?”

He propped his feet up on the table and let his signature wicked grin return to his face. She hoped she was imagining it, but she could’ve sworn she saw him throw Jeremy a side eye as he raised his voice. “Yeah, I said: Eat. My. Ass.”

Jenna’s held her breath as the metaphorical steam built up in Morris’s head.

“Alright. You can have another Saturday -- it won’t bother me.”

“Jesus…” Goranski rolled his eyes.

“Fine, take another one.”

Silently, Jenna marked another tally on her paper.

“Great! I’m free the Saturday after that, too, but any later I’ll have to check my calendar.” Goranski snorted.

“At this point, you can throw that thing out because we can keep going. If you want another one, just say the word. You can rot away in here instead of prison.” Morris narrowed his eyes at Goranski. “Are you finished?”

“Nope!”

“I’m doing this town -- no -- the _world_ a favor, here.”

“So?”

“There’s another one! I can keep you here until the day you die if you don’t shut your mouth. You want another one?”

“Yes!”

“Great! That’s another one.”

Jake whipped around with a horrified expression on his face, “Bro, cut it out!”

Morris shot him a warning look before leaning on Goranski’s table, rolling his knuckles menacingly into the wood. “Are you done?”

Goranski cracked his knuckles and matched Morris’s expression with venom in his voice, “Not. Even. Close. _Dick._ ”

“There’s one more.”

“At what point are you gonna realize that I don’t give a shit?”

“Another!”

Goranski smirked again, “How many is that?”

Jenna glanced down at the tally on her paper and bit her lip. _Would it be a dick move to… No, he deserves it._ “Seven, if you include the one from this morning.”

“Well now you’ve got eight.” He turned to look at Jenna, and she felt her blood go cold. “You stay out of this. It’s between me and him.”

Goranski didn’t even try to cover his laughter, “Yeah, you wish it was.”

Morris pounded the table with one fist, a hollow thump circling the room. “What are you really looking for here, Goranski? I have you for two months now. Is that _really_ what you want?”

“What can I say? I’m thrilled!”

Morris grit his teeth and stood straight up, still maintaining eye contact. “Of course that’s what you want them to believe. I’ll let you in on a little secret: if you spent half the time trying to do something with your life that you spend trying to impress people, you’d be a lot better off. Acting out and pretending to be someone you’re not doesn’t help anybody.”

He stood, pulling at the sleeves of his coat, and addressed the whole room. “I’ll be standing right outside those doors. If I have to come in here again, you’ll all regret the day you were born.”

Even from where she sat, she could see the way Goranski’s knuckles clenched as Morris left. The moment she heard the door slam, he dug his heels into the ground and screamed, “Fuck you!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**10:22 AM**

 

Jake really didn’t want to give Goranski the satisfaction of earning his attention, but in all fairness there wasn’t much else to look at. For the third time, he’d managed to stack a section of books almost to his own height. Now he stood on tiptoes, knuckles white around the final book as he reached to complete his… tower? Wall? Whatever.

And for the third time, there was the smallest tap as the final book was placed up top, followed by a resounding crash as the whole structure came down under its weight.

“Shit,” Goranski said. “My fortress of knowledge.”

Chloe rolled her eyes so hard, he was pretty sure he could feel it from 3 feet away. “What an honor to have such an esteemed architect in our midst,” she groaned, only half audible.

Goranski snorted, “Haven’t you heard? I’m actually a literature expert. And this?” he grabbed a novel from the top of his disheveled pile - _Twilight_. “Is not literature. No harm, no foul, am I right?” He punctuated the sentence by chucking the book across the library, where it thumped against a shelf right next to the nerdy kid’s head.

“Hey, 50 Shades only does it for some people. Others need real blood in the mix to get off.” Chloe remarked.

“Right, because Edward Cullen is just the pinnacle of male anatomy… and not much else.”

Jake was tired of the conversation, so he made a point of turning his back to Goranski to address Chloe. “So hey, my parents are still out of town and I’ve still got a whole cabinet of booze left somehow. I was thinking about having another party tonight, would you be in?”

“Jesus, didn’t your parents first leave like a month ago?”

Jake chewed at the inside of his cheek and put on a confused smile. Chloe didn’t need to know how long his parents had really been gone. She didn’t need to know that he only brought it up in the first place when he’d gotten so sick of sitting around that empty house that he threw a party, almost hoping someone would burn the damn place down so he wouldn’t have to stay there anymore. She _definitely_ didn’t need to know that he was on his last strand of hope that they’d ever come back.

“Well yeah, but they stopped home a few times. They have to travel and all that shit for their jobs, and now that I can take care of myself they feel better about leaving, I guess. That’s not the point, are you down for this party or what?” He hoped the cheesy, stupid grin wasn’t getting to be too much.

Chloe shrugged, “I want to, but I don’t know if I can. My dad doesn’t care that I’m here but my mom’s trying to pick me up for the rest of the weekend so she can ‘talk some sense into me’.” She held up air quotes and rolled her eyes again. “Dad said he would get her off my back, but who knows?” She shrugged helplessly. “I just wish they’d grow some balls and talk to each other like adults instead of using me to get back at each other.”

Jake wasn’t sure what to say. He had plenty of experience with parent issues, but MIA parents who stopped sending money weeks ago were a completely different ballgame than divorcees. He had to imagine that the same advice doesn’t apply as to parents who are at least still together, but united against a different force: _me, apparently._

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**10:25 AM**

 

Chloe stared at Jake, waiting for a response and somewhat regretting dumping her broken family problems on him in the same breath she turned down his party, but Goranski didn’t give him the time. He swung his legs over the railing and hopped to the ground in front of her with that familiar smirk that grated on every last one of her nerves.

“You know, 50% of marriages these days end in divorce. You’re not special, princess, half of us come from broken homes.”

“Shut up, it’s not like I was asking for pity,” Chloe scoffed. “I was just giving the situation. My parents fight like kindergarteners, so what?”

“Damn,” Goranski feigned a tender expression and rested a hand on his chest, “Poor princess isn’t the only thing on mommy and daddy’s minds anymore.” His expression turned cold and bitter. “My heart is just bleeding for you, sweetheart.”

Chloe squinted and sat back down. _Don’t you dare give him the satisfaction, he’s nothing. He doesn’t know anything._ “Just shut up. You don’t even know me.”

She could tell from the familiar glint in his eye that he wasn’t fooled for a minute. He knew he’d gotten under her skin, and he _loved_ it.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**10:26 AM**

 

Jeremy clenched his jaw and tapped his foot nervously underneath the table. He kept his gaze fixed on the blank paper in front of him, afraid that if he looked up, Rich would be there. And then he’d be reminded of all the embarrassing horribleness that he was desperately trying to erase from his mind.

He was trying not to listen to what he was talking about with the popular kids, but something about Rich’s voice just attracted his ear like a magnet. “Hey, Sporto!” Jeremy stole a glance to his right. Not that he thought Rich was addressing _him_ of course, he was just interested. Rich had turned his attention on Jake and silently jabbed a finger into his chest, shifting his weight ever so slightly on the tips of his toes to do so. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Jake wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, are _your_ parents still together? Do they still let you act like their little prince?” He twisted his grin up to stare Jake in the face. “Oh, that’s right. You get to be king of your place with all of daddy’s ‘business trips’.” He held up air quotes uncomfortably close to him, almost pinching his cheeks. Even from across the room, Jeremy could see the hard set of Jake’s jaw and instantly felt terror leaking into his system.

Jake grabbed Rich’s arms by the wrists and pulled them out of his face. “You know what, man? I really don’t want to fight you, but you’re not giving me too much of a choice.”

Rich’s fists began to clench at his sides, and Jeremy didn’t even think. He just stood up. “Hey, I have issues with my parents, too. Everyone does.”

Jeremy could feel the weight of every single student’s gaze on him. Each second they grew heavier, urging him to sit down, stay in his own lane, but he stood his ground. Rich turned towards Jeremy with a cutting glance, and for a moment, Jeremy was sure he would never breathe again, but thankfully, after a moment, Rich’s fist relaxed and he gave a little smirk. He gave Jake’s shoulder a too-friendly pat, then flopped back down into his seat, keeping his eyes on Jeremy the entire time.

“I appreciate it, tall-ass, but you have to admit you’re the picture perfect son in like… any universe.” That wasn’t true. He _knew_ that wasn’t true, why would he say that? “Or at least you were before… It’s just too bad you didn’t let me complete the transformation to a full-on bad boy.” Rich finished his statement with the tiniest, almost imperceptible wink in his direction, and leaned further back in his seat.

_Did he really just say that?_

“At the very least you could stop tucking your shirt in so tight, it makes you look like a nerd.”

That one was a little easier to believe, but he was still stuck on what Rich had said before. “Didn’t let me…” What the hell could he have meant by that? _He_ was the one who had been giving him dirty looks around every corner. He was the one who pulled away and stopped… whatever it was that had been happening between them. Most of all, he was the one who had any sort of reputation in the game when they’d been caught, and could never seem to decide if the blame was on the alcohol or Jeremy when anyone asked. What was he trying to say to him? He could barely feel himself sinking back down until he was already back in the chair.

“Why do you have to insult everyone?” Jake had sat down too, but his face was still set in attack mode. Jeremy didn’t know where Rich got the balls to get on his bad side.

“I’m just being honest, asshole. You’d think our glorious _captain_ would know the difference.” There was a challenge in his eyes and, surprisingly enough, Jake backed down from it.

“Well…” He sighed and turned to look at Jeremy. “He’s got a name, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Rich smirked again and sat up in mock-interest.

“Yeah-” Guilt flashed over Jake’s face as he turned to Jeremy. “What’s your name?”

“...Jeremy.”

“See?” He was grateful that Jake wasn’t looking at him anymore, but he way Rich looked at him now was worse.

“Yeah, I knew that. Our friend _Jeremy_ leaves quite the impression.”

Jeremy felt his heart begin to pump ice through his veins.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**10:30 AM**

 

Jenna looked up from her notebook as the library door thumped open, and a janitor made his way behind the front desk with a cart of cleaning supplies trailing behind him. He looked up, and for a second Jenna thought he was staring at her, but then Jeremy gave a little wave.

“Hey, Jeremy, how are you?” The man returned his wave and offered a warm smile along with it.

Goranski shot up from where he’d been lounging in his chair and stared over at Jeremy in shock. “Jeremy, you didn’t tell me your dad worked here!”

Chloe whipped around and tapped her nails in front of him, like a cat unsheathing its claws. “Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed him enough? Knock it off already!”

“Mr. Reyes isn’t my dad…” Jeremy mumbled, not that anyone was exactly listening to him.

“Damn… could’ve fooled me, the resemblance is uncanny.” Goranski was still gaping back and forth between Jeremy and the janitor. _Wait a minute…_ There was a distinct lack of the usual malicious glint in his eye, which had to mean…

Jake piped up just as fast as she began to scribble in her notebook, “I know you think you’re really charming, but that’s not funny, dude. Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

 _Rich has met his actual dad, you idiot._ She wanted to say it, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she wanted to defend Rich, but it felt… wrong to let this go on. She opened her mouth, “I-”

She was too late. “I see what’s going on here. ‘Look at the janitor! Isn’t he so dirty! Isn’t he just the lowest of the low! How _amusing_ he is to watch, cleaning up all our messes like our own personal _slave_ ! Look at how _sad_ and _pathetic_ he is.’” Mr. Reyes’s expression had gone cold, and she could almost swear his lip was trembling the tiniest bit as he spoke. “Just because I’m not on _Broadway_ doesn’t mean I’m not a person. In fact, I’ve learned more in my years as a custodian than I _ever_ did in acting school.”

He raised a finger to sweep it around the room, making eye contact with each individual student as he did so. “I’d bet my bottom dollar that I know more of your secrets than _all_ of your friends combined. I find all the little notes you think you’ve hidden in your locker, I can read your messages over your shoulder when you think I’m not looking… I can even hear your conversations. You think you’re so smooth, so quiet, well… I commend you in your practice of _stage_ -whispering.” A grim satisfaction slipped onto his face as he registered the shock and confusion of her classmates’ faces. Jenna could only smirk, she had known Reyes was a gossip fiend for a while - they’d even traded secrets behind closed doors on occasion - but she never expected an outburst like this. “I am the closest thing to a security camera installed at this school, and it’s time you all knew that.”

His smile grew wider, a little unsettling in the dim library lighting, and he began to push the cart forward, moving along his route. Then he stopped suddenly in his tracks and turned back to address the students. “There’s one more thing I think you’d like to know: that clock is twenty minutes fast.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 **11:50** **11:30 AM**

 

Jake jerked his head up from the desk and blinked the sleep from his eyes as the door slammed behind Mr. Morris. He subtly stretched and cracked his back as he swung a disapproving look around the room and gave a loud clap to wake the remaining students.

“Alright, you’ve got thirty minutes for lunch. If I see so much as a crumb after twelve _on the dot_ , that’ll be another Saturday.” He grimaced at Brooke’s friend in particular, and Jake felt the tiniest flame light up in his stomach. _Asshole._

Instead of calling him out and risking another detention, he started asking questions. “In here, sir?”

“Yes, in here.”

“Why? I think the cafeteria would be a much better place to-”

“Well, I don’t care what you think, Dillinger. Have you thought about that?”

Jake silently pressed his fist against the table. He already felt like enough of an asshole after the janitor incident, he wasn’t going to make the day any worse by letting this go.

Goranski spoke over him before he got the chance, “I think there’s a real _thirst_ problem in this room, Mr. Morris. Any plans to provide milk for us or are we just supposed to dehydrate?”

He bit back a smirk. _Maybe he is good for something after all._ “Yes, we’re extremely thirsty, sir.” He confirmed.

Morris opened his mouth and Chloe hopped in just in time, eyes gleaming, “I have low tolerance for dehydration, sir, it’s bad for my pores.”

“I’ve seen her dehydrate, sir. It’s disgusting.” His core shook with the force of the laughter he was holding back, and Morris’s dumbfounded expression only made it worse.

A loud scrape came from behind him, and he turned around to see Goranski pushing himself up from the table. “Relax,” he said, smoothing out the air around him with his hands. “I’ll just run and get it.”

“Stop!” Morris stared him down until he sat again. “I know you think I’m some kind of dumbass, but I’m not _that_ stupid.” He jabbed a finger at Jake. “You! And…” He looked around the room and his eyes fell on Brooke’s friend again. Jake’s stomach twisted with guilt as he struggled to remember her name. _Was it Jenny? Jennifer?_ “Jenna. There’s a vending machine in the teacher’s lounge, you two have exactly five minutes.”

Begrudgingly, he rose from his seat and he and Jenna made their way out into the hallway side by side. It was surprisingly difficult to look her in the eye, knowing how much he had seen her around and how he should have known who she was by now, but he’d never bothered to ask. It wasn’t like him, really, or at least he hoped it wasn’t. He shifted his gaze to the floor as they continued down the hall. The last thing he wanted was to make someone else feel invisible.

  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**11:32 AM**

 

Jenna jumped a little in surprise as Jake spoke up next to her. His voice had this demanding loudness to it, as if it begged to be heard by anyone nearby. It reverberated around the hall, rivaled only by the squeak of their sneakers on the tile. “So, Jenna… what’s that kid Jeremy’s deal? I’ve seen him around, but I never really knew who he was… I kinda feel bad.” He cast her a sidelong glance, as if asking for approval.

But that was crazy. Jake Dillinger had never addressed her by name. Why would he ever need the approval of someone like her? Before she could answer, he sighed. “Or… never mind. I just know Chloe and Brooke always go to you for the gossip and… I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine, really!” Jenna reassured him. “To be honest, I didn’t know much about him either until your last party.”

“He was at my last party?”

Jenna couldn’t quite decipher his tone. He seemed confused, mostly, but there was a note of… something else. It was odd, normally she could read people pretty well, but for such an outgoing guy, Jake wasn’t as much of an open book as you’d expect.

“Wait, you seriously didn’t hear?”

“No…” Jake broke eye contact again.

Jenna tucked her hands in her back pockets (she needed _something_ to do with them if she couldn’t fiddle with the buttons and switches on her phone while she talked) and chewed at her lip in excitement. It had been a while since she’d gotten to tell someone this story for the first time. She couldn’t think of a reason why Jake wouldn’t have heard it already, but the thrill of sharing it with someone new drowned that thought out.

“Well, you know Dustin Kropp?” Jake nodded earnestly. “He was looking for a place to smoke and opened up a closet door... And there Jeremy was, hands - well, _lips_ and hands - all over your friend Goranski.”

“Goranski isn’t my- wait that was _him_?” There was an ear-piercing squeak as Jake stopped dead in his tracks for a moment. “I heard it was just some nobody-” Jake snapped his mouth shut and kept walking. She couldn’t tell if she imagined it or if he looked more closed off than he did a second ago.

In fairness, she felt herself getting embarrassed. Spreading her classmate’s business among a sea of peers was one thing, doing it when they’d been confined to such a small group felt… wrong. Like a violation of some unwritten rule she was supposed to just inherently _know_. She pulled her hands from her pockets and started anxiously running her nails up and down the open zipper of her jacket instead. “But… that’s the rumor. It’s not like I really saw… Yeah.”

Jenna didn’t know how to continue. Something about continuing that conversation felt weird, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. She picked her brain for something, anything else to talk about, but drew a blank. It had never occurred to her before, but something about the way Jake nodded solemnly and looked away from her made her mouth go dry. _I don’t know how to talk about anything else, do I?_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**11:40 AM**

 

Jeremy’s hand shook a little bit as he accepted the coke bottle from Jake. He was intimidating on any good day, and today… Jeremy avoided eye contact and brushed the condensation off the bottle with his sweater sleeve.

He waited until a few of the others began to pull out various bags (or boxes, in Chloe’s case) to reach for his own crinkled paper bag shoved deep in the abyss of his backpack. Unloading his food, he stole a glance across the room to where Rich sat, apparently pestering Chloe yet again.

“What’s all this?” He grinned, practically tipping the table over as he leaned on it. Some distant part of Jeremy’s heart felt pinched for just a second.

Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled a pair of chopsticks from the box. Jeremy didn’t personally know how to use chopsticks, but he was pretty sure the grip she had on them was more fitted to a knife.

“Where’s your lunch?” She spat.

“Ask Jeremy.”

He felt his heart rate double as he scrambled to look busy with his lunch as both their heads snapped in his direction. All his energy was directed into praying that he didn’t look like he’d heard that… even if Rich had said it loud enough that he was probably supposed to hear it. He didn’t look back until he heard Rich’s voice again, a bit quieter this time.

“So what’s that?”

“Sushi.” Chloe looked ready to take out an eye with her chopsticks, but she cautiously lifted one of the rolls into her mouth instead.

“You don’t look like the type to consent to those sweet little fishies getting chopped up.” Rich sniffled obnoxiously as he made an over exaggerated sad face at her.

“Can I eat?” Chloe swallowed as she slammed her fist, still brandishing the chopsticks, on the table.

“Power to you,” Rich shrugged and looked around, probably for someone else to torment.

He could swear he felt his stomach drop clean to the floor as Rich’s gaze settled on him.

Before the pure horror could register, Rich had jerked a chair out from the table in front of him and straddled it to face Jeremy. He focused very, very hard on his sandwich.

“Hey,” Rich whispered. Distantly, he saw Rich waving a hand at him, but he was too focused on holding his intense eye contact with the table to acknowledge that. “I’m not going away so you might as well look up. Or at least blink.”

Jeremy gave the tiniest shake of his head and stared harder. Rich sighed, and slid Jeremy’s sandwich out from under his gaze.

Finally, he was forced to break and glare at Rich indignantly. This earned him a satisfied smirk and all the shock of fully meeting Rich’s bright hazel eyes for the first time in recent history. He wanted to be surprised at how much it ached to stare into his irises and let his vision float along where tints of gold and green were speckled together like the shoreline, but he really wasn’t. The wound was too fresh.

He flicked his gaze down to Rich’s hands, carefully turning his sandwich every which way in the ziploc bag.

“So what do we have here?” He popped open the bag with a prolonged series of snaps and stared at its contents.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” It came out more like a question than an answer. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure which he meant either.

Rich nodded in approval and reached for his thermos, dragging it across the table with a screech that made them both flinch in their seats. “What’s this? Milk?” Jeremy tried so hard not to notice the slight suggestive inflection in his voice.

“Soup.”

“And last, but not least, this…” Rich picked up the bottle of apple juice his mother had tossed in the bag on their way out of the house. The smug satisfaction on Rich’s face suddenly made him not want to eat the food in question anymore.

“Well, at least your mom can pack a lunch, amigo.” He patted Jeremy on the arm and tossed the juice back into his lap. Jeremy realized with a sickening lurch in his stomach that Rich had shown up that morning completely empty handed.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**11:43 AM**

 

Chloe swore every time Goranski set his snivelling gaze on her corner of the room, it made her sushi taste a little sour. She had to physically restrain herself from throwing down the chopsticks in defeat when he lost interest in pestering Jeremy and headed back towards her.

“I hate to break it to you buddy, but I think Dillinger’s folks still have you beat. Damn, you even got the crusts cut off, you lucky bastard.” He hopped up on his table and began to reach for the scattered pieces of food in front of him.

Jake tensed up and swatted Goranski away with a steel, haunted look in his eyes that she’d never seen before. It was enough to make her own blood turn a bit cold.

“Okay, okay,” Goranski pushed himself to his feet so that he was standing on top of the table. To see him tower so far above her was unsettling, to say the least. “This is my impression of life over at Jakey D’s house.”

Chloe tried to toss Jake an apprehensive glance, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He was just staring up, more through than at Goranski. She couldn’t tell for sure but… _Are his hands shaking?_

Goranski put on a clownish smile and a comically deep voice as he squared his shoulders. “Hey there, son! How’s the running going?” Then he turned to face the other persona and twisted his fingers into false dimples.

“Just _great_ , Dad! They made me captain of the _whole team_!” He cried in a squeaky voice.

He turned back to play Jake’s dad again. “Well that’s just _grand_ ! Say, Jakey Boy, how’d you like to go out in the yard and play a game of _catch_!”

“Oh boy! I can’t wait!”

A new character, Jake’s mom, entered the scene as Rich pouted his lips and planted a hand effeminately on his hip. “Isn’t our son just swell, my dear?”

“He sure is, honey. Isn’t _life_ swell?” He leaned in to kiss the imaginary woman standing next to him, then switched footing to kiss himself back as Jake’s mom.

Then, with one last wicked glance at Jake, he switched back to play his dad, and drove a fist into his mother’s face. Chloe couldn’t bring herself to look at Jake.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**11:45 AM**

 

Jake felt his anger swarming inside of him like a hurricane, the emptiness of his house and everything that had come since forming the eye. Every gust of wind, every drop of rain was aimed directly at Goranski.

“And what about _your_ family?” He snapped. “If you know so much, I think I want to meet the people who taught you. They’ve got to be just _swell_.”

If the question meant anything to Goranski, he didn’t show it. He just stared down at Jake with the same look of confidence and chaos that he always wore. “Sure thing, _pal_. Mine is real easy.”

Goranski clapped his hands together and tucked them up to his face, batting his eyelashes. “Oh my dearest Richard, have a _wonderful_ day at school, honey!” He cooed. Then he leaned forward to pat his imaginary self on the head.

He swung around and squared his shoulders, making himself look twice as big as he really was, and deepened his voice to a level Jake didn’t think should be possible. “Hey, bitch! Where’s my turkey pot pie?”

The goofy smile of his mother returned. “I just need five minutes, my love!”

Jake expected him to switch characters again, but he stayed there, staring as the smile grew more and more uncomfortable. Finally he broke, mimicking a high-pitched sob. In one quick motion, he swiped a hand down and plucked his scarf from its resting spot on his chair.

Continuing the sobbing, he wrapped one end of the scarf carefully around his neck. Then he looked Jake straight in the eye and jerked the other end of his mock-noose in the air and cut off the sobs abruptly.

“Yeah, right!” Chloe spat.

“Oh I’m not finished.” Goranski glared down at her. He threw the scarf down on the chair and stomped to one end of the table.

He hunched his shoulders and looked at the ground. “How was your day, dad?” He grumbled.

Goranski switched back into his father’s persona, this time staggering about on the table as he spoke. “Fuck you, that’s how it went!”

He turned around again, this time wearing his own expression, hunched shoulders now pulled back in smug confidence. “What about you, dad?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Dad, what about you?”

“Fuck you!”

He elevated his voice to a yell, and Jake tossed a quick glance towards the door in fear that Morris would hear him. “No, Dad, what about you?”

“Fuck you!” His voice rang out in a crescendo as he swung his hand out to punch his imaginary self directly in the face.

The room was dead silent as the echo of Goranski’s voice died out. Jake couldn’t tell if it was the scene or the anticipation of Morris walking in that made them all hold their breath, but he knew he didn’t want to be the one to break it.

Thankfully, Chloe did it for him. “Bullshit!”

“Oh yeah? You want to come over sometime?” He plopped himself down on the edge of the table with his legs dangling down. The toes of his combat boots only barely grazed the floor.

He wanted to kick Chloe, but she persisted. “It fits your image too well. It would just make way too much sense.”

“So you don’t believe me?” Goranski’s face looked a bit… crumpled. Almost defeated.

“Not a word.” Chloe looked down at her nails.

“No?”

“Did I stutter?”

Jake felt like he had been electrocuted by the crackling tension as they stared each other down. It was too intense. Too familiar.

Goranski broke the staring contest first and began to roll up the sleeve of his t-shirt until the angry red circle of a burn scar appeared just before his elbow. “Do you believe this? I don’t know about you, but I think it looks about the shape of a cigar.” Chloe stared down at the floor and refused to meet his eyes. “Do I stutter? In my house, this is what happens when you wait five minutes to grab a beer from the fridge.”

Chloe was still looking away, her face completely blank. Goranski gave up on looking for a reaction and hopped to his feet. “You know what? I don’t need to sit here with you fuckin’ dildos anymore. I need a smoke.”

Before any of them could say anything he stormed to the other side of the room and grabbed Jeremy’s arm, pulling him up from the table without a word. Panic registered on the poor kid’s face, but he didn’t make a sound, just staggering weakly after him with Goranski’s hand still wrapped tightly around his bicep.

Goranski dragged him all the way up to the front of the library and cracked the door open, peeking into Morris’s office. With a sharp nod, he threw the door open, stepping out into the hallway. He let go of Jeremy’s arm as he moved, but the kid still followed almost militaristically.

“Should we…?” Jake turned to Chloe.

“Yeah. I’m a little worried he’ll kill that kid if we don’t.”

They rose from their seats together and cautiously followed Goranski out of the library. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Jenna wordlessly tiptoe after them.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**12:02 PM**

 

It seemed to Jeremy that Rich had walked through some sort of magic gate when they left the library. All the anger and hurt that had been collected in his face was wiped away, replaced with a self-satisfied determination.

For the first time in weeks, he opened his mouth and spoke to Rich of his own accord. “Wh… Where are we going?” He half-whispered. Every footstep felt too loud, like it was bringing them that much closer to being caught. _Why the fuck did I go with him? Why couldn’t I just tell him no?_

“My locker.” Rich answered, without turning to face him.

Jeremy almost jumped out of his skin as he heard Jake’s voice from behind him. “How do you know where Morris went?”

Rich didn’t seem shaken, he just turned around and walked backwards as he addressed Jake with a smile. “I don’t.”

“Well, how do you know when he’s coming back?”

“I don’t! How’s it feel being the bad boy for a change?” Rich grinned and turned on his heels.

Chloe piped up from somewhere behind Jake. “And what exactly is the point of going to your locker?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rich bit back. It was only then that it hit Jeremy just how good at acting Rich was.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before Rich came to an abrupt stop in front of what must’ve been his locker. He spun the dial back and forth a few times until the door popped open and a few stray crumpled papers and half-chewed pencils clattered to the floor at Rich’s feet.

“Slob.” Chloe spat.

Rich gave her his signature smirk and without missing a beat said, “My maid’s on vacation.”

He turned and reached his arm into the abyss of abused school supplies, dramatically fishing around in the rubble of his education. Finally, he retrieved a crumpled paper bag and displayed it like a kid showing off the gold star sticker on his test. Jeremy wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

“You all have no imagination.” Rich sighed and pulled a second, transparent bag from inside of it. They each made their own muttered noises of realization as they recognized the dried up leaves inside.

“Weed.” Jeremy said, stupidly.

“You bet.” Rich winked at him and threw it back in the bag. “Let’s roll.”

Jeremy tried to ignore the stuttering of his heart as he followed after him.

“So here’s the plan: We'll cross through the lab, and then we'll double back. Morris will never see a thing.” Rich pointed at a school map as if they were planning a military ambush. Or maybe a heist.

Probably the heist.

Chloe stared anxiously at the map. “You better be right. If we get caught, I’m not going down for this.”

“Oh, I know you’re not, honey.”

The group stayed packed in, keeping lookout for one another like a herd of antelope on the move. Each squeak of his tennis shoes on the tile made Jeremy feel like the sick baby antelope that you just _knew_ would get caught at the end of the scene. And every corner they turned he could swear they would see the starving lion coming back to throw them in detention for the rest of their lives.

It happened just one hallway from the library. Jeremy would’ve sworn his heart stopped beating as they watched Morris step towards the library doors. _Don’t check, don’t check, don’t check…_ He walked straight past them and paused at the water fountain near his office.

“What do we do?” He whispered, mostly to Rich.

Jake was the one who answered him. “Through the music hall, that’s the only way back around.”

Rich shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. We take that way and we’re dead, I guarantee it.” He made a slashing motion across his throat. “We need to cut through the cafeteria.”

“Why should we listen to you? Who’s bright idea was it to wind up in this situation anyway?” Jake shot back. “I’m done listening to you.”

Rich rolled his eyes, but they all turned and followed Jake. Jeremy almost gave him a guilty look… almost. Even if it felt like _before_ in the moment, the party still hung in the back of his mind and held him back from letting himself believe things could be the same.

He was so focused on Rich, it barely caught his notice when they ran up to a locked gate.

“Fuck!” Jake whisper-shouted.

“Didn’t I tell you what a great _fucking_ idea this was, Dillinger?” Rich looked like he was ready to start a fight, swelling his chest as he stared up at Jake.

“Fuck off.”

They all froze as the sound of Morris whistling came from a nearby hallway.

Jeremy tried to hold it together, but could hardly keep his breathing at a steady pace. “We’re dead,” He breathed.

He hadn’t really intended to say it to the others, or out loud at all for that matter, but Rich looked him dead in the eyes. “Nope. Just me.”

“What do you-”

“Just get this back to the library, I’ll meet you there.”

It didn’t fully register what Rich was doing until he felt the too-dry warmth of the paper bag against his crotch. He had to stop himself from squeaking in protest as Rich’s hand squirmed around, trying to position the bag of weed inconspicuously next to his dick. After what felt like hours, he winked and let the waistline of his boxers snap back against him painfully.

“Keep that package safe.”

Jeremy had no time to think of a proper response (or any response at all) before Rich took off running down the hallway, tearing down a poster as he went. He and Jenna stared at each other with wide eyes until Chloe jerked them back into reality. “We have to move!”

He wasn’t certain, but in the distance he could’ve sworn he heard Rich singing…

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**12:13 PM**

 

“ _With the taste of your lips, I’m on a riiiiiiiide! You’re toxic, I’m slipping under! With a taste of  a poison paradise-_ ” Rich’s breath gave out in the middle of the line, and he had to pause the song to take a deep breath. His lungs burned, but he continued running as fast as his legs would carry him.

_The gym… I have to make it to the gym._

Every step sent a shockwave from the soles of his feet, all the way up his spine, but he still ran harder, singing at the top of his lungs. A stupefying mix of relief and anxiety flooded his system as he made it to the door and threw it open. He hesitated in the doorway, listening for any sign that Morris had taken the bait.

At first he heard nothing, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. _I messed up… Morris caught him…_

In a last-ditch effort, he screamed one final, “ _I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re toxiiiic!_ ” Down the hall.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the responding, “Son of a bitch!”

Morris’s voice was close, but not too close that he couldn’t use this to have some fun. He jogged over to the rack of basketballs and picked one, bouncing it as hard as he could against the court to make certain that Morris was headed for him. Just him.

Rich heard the click of the door beginning to open, and snatched up the ball. The second Morris’s head peeked around it, he began to shout. “Three! ...Two! ...One!” On the last number, he shot for the basket, missing pathetically.

“Jesus Christ, Goranski! What the hell is this? What are you doing here?” Morris sounded just as out of breath as he was, and Rich took that as a win.

“Oh, hi!” He called out, moving to clap him on the back as if he were an old friend.

Morris shrugged him off with a glare. The satisfaction at seeing the veins popping out on his forehead was more than worth whatever was about to happen to him. “Out! That’s it, Goranski! You are _out_!”

“Don’t you wanna hear my excuse?”

“Out!”

“I was thinking I’d try out for a scholarship.” Rich smirked. “Wouldn’t that be impressive, the short guy winning a basketball scholarship. All the college admins’ll be wetting their pants for me.”

“Give me the ball, Goranski.”

Rich dropped the basketball and kicked it back towards the rack. Morris grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him towards the door.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**12:19 PM**

 

Jenna’s heart was still pounding as they all settled back into their seats in the library. She’d give Rich one thing, he really did know the best way to get away with shit.

She glanced up to make sure nobody was looking in her direction (who was she kidding, they never were), and pulled out her notebook. She hadn’t written down a single note since they’d left the library, and she wanted to make absolute _certain_ she got it all down.

Jenna only got through _Goranski shoved his…_ before a gentle whisper caught her attention. “What are you writing?”

She scrambled to tuck it away as she looked up to meet Jeremy’s eyes. An instant wave of guilt washed over her when she registered the innocent curiosity in his face. He hadn't chosen this. He hadn’t chosen any of this… besides whatever he did to wind up here. “It’s… nothing. Homework.”

She made a mental note to tear out the page when she left.

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the library door slamming open. She wasn’t as shocked to see Morris with a death grip on Goranski’s shoulders as she was to see just _how red_ his face was.

“Get your stuff, let’s go!” He yelled, shoving Goranski towards the table. Her fingers tightened a little bit around the notebook. “Our future NBA player here thought it would be a fun idea to go take a little break in the gym. I hate to break it to you all, but you’re going to be without his services for the rest of the day.”

In his situation, Jenna would’ve panicked. Probably cried if he were loud enough, but Goranski carried a stoic, almost amused expression as he collected his coat and scarf from the chair. “What a shame that is…” He muttered, dragging a finger from his tear duct down his face.

“Everything’s a big joke, huh Goranksi? The false alarm you pulled, Friday, false alarms are really funny, aren't they… What if your home, what if your family…” He paused, and a wicked smile spread on his face. Jenna felt nauseous. “...What if your _weed_ was on fire?”

“Impossible, sir, it’s in Heere’s underwear.”

Jeremy’s constant fidgeting froze, and she could’ve sworn every drop of blood had left his body. She’d never seen anyone look so pale. Across the room, she heard Chloe snort.

Morris turned on her in an instant. “Oh, you think he’s funny? You think he’s cute, is that it? A real casanova over here? Let me tell you something: he’s a deadbeat.” He turned away from Chloe to address the whole room. “You want something to laugh at? You go visit Richard Goranski in five years! Then you’ll see how goddamn funny he is.”

Goranski had gone still next to his seat, a cold fury settled over his expression. For once, she agreed with him.

Morris noticed this as well. “What’s the matter, _Dick_? Are you gonna cry? Let’s go!” He came farther into the room and grabbed his shoulder again, practically dragging him towards the door.

“Hey, keep your fuckin’ hands off me! I’ll tell the whole world how much you like to touch little boys, prick!” Jenna would’ve been scared, but it caught her attention just how hard Goranski’s fists were shaking by his sides. It was like watching a wounded pit bull, still trying to fight as it was dragged away by animal control. He wasn’t a monster, he was just scared.

As a last ditch effort to assert himself, Goranski shoved over a rack of magazines on his way out the door. Morris slammed the door behind them without flinching.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**12:22 PM**

 

Rich kept his face blank as he trailed behind Morris. If he was going to go out, he wasn’t going out crying or begging for his life. He’d go out fighting. If Morris didn’t know that, he was an even bigger idiot than Rich thought.

They stopped at a seemingly random spot in the middle of the hallway. “In here.” Morris commanded, his voice still hoarse with anger. _Good._

Rich looked all around them, but didn’t see a classroom, office, or anything that could really serve as a backup detention. “Where? The fucking void?”

Morris didn’t say anything, just opened a suspicious-looking door that Rich hadn’t noticed before and motioned for him to go inside.

“Excuse me?”

“Go!”

Rich knew better than to argue. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but when his vision came to he felt a knot settle in his stomach. This was _bad_. All around him were mops, buckets of bleach, and towers of other chemicals that must be cleaning supplies. In the very back of the closet was a table where one lonely cup of pencils sat. Rich didn’t want to know what those could be for.

“I get it, this is like a hostage situation. You won’t let me out of here til the other guys pay you a hundred bucks each? Alright, I can roll with that. You can make it two hundred if you give me half.” Rich scanned Morris’s face as he talked, but got nothing from him. He stood still, almost robotic in the doorway.

With military precision, Morris flicked the light on and swung the door shut behind him. Rich backed into the table and tried his best not to let the bright light make it look like he was about to cry. He wasn’t about to cry.

“That's the last time, Goranski. That's the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids. I may not make six figures, but you know what? I’m comfortable. I have a house, I have food, I have family. I have everything I need, and you’re not worth the effort to throw all that away. But someday, kid, someday.” He paused to chuckle as the bile rose up in Rich’s throat. “When you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place... And they've forgotten all about you and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic life… I'm gonna be there.”

Rich swallowed, but didn’t let his expression waver for a second.

“That's right.  And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, kid. You’re going to get everything that’s coming to you, and I’m going to be the one to give it. Mark my words.”

He gripped the edge of the table to stop his hands from trembling, and he hoped Morris couldn’t hear the pencils rattling slightly against the edge of the cup. “That sounds like a threat, sir.” If nothing else, he was proud his voice didn’t shake as he spoke.

“Oh, really? That ‘thoundth’ like a threat? Grow up, Goranski. What're you gonna do about it?  You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody's gonna take your word over mine? They love me around here. I show up to fix their computers in the darkest hour, I’m like goddamn Superman to these pitiful idiots… and you're a lying sack of shit!  And everybody knows it. Oh, you're a real tough guy…”

Without warning, he reached forward and grabbed the collar of Rich’s shirt. He instinctively shut his eyes, but he still felt the hot breath rolling over his face. It was too much, too familiar. Somewhere deep down he wondered what would happen first: his heart beating out of his chest or his heart stopping all together.

“Come on, come on… get on your feet, Goranski!  Let's find out how tough you are! I wanna know right now, how tough you are!  Come on! I'll give you the first punch, let's go!” He brought the hand that wasn’t in a death grip on Rich’s shirt up to his face and pointed aggressively at his own jaw. “Come on, right here, just take the first shot!  Please, I'm begging you, take a shot! Come on, just take one shot, that's all I need, just one swing…”

Rich stared back at him. As tempting as it was, he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t even blink. He deserved this. All he had to do was sit here and take it.

He expected it when Morris’s fist came flying towards his face, but he flinched instinctively anyway. Behind his eyes, he could see Jeremy laughing at him. He deserved this.

Rich waited for impact… too long, he realized, until he opened his eyes. Morris was overcome with maniacal laughter at his expression. “Just what I thought… you aren’t shit, Goranski.”

Morris turned around and left, slamming the closet door behind him. The soft click of the lock seemed to cut right into his chest.

Rich couldn’t do anything but stare at the door, glass insert still trembling, after Morris. He felt more trapped than he’d ever been, not just because of the tiny space he was shoved in. Morris was right. As dirty as he felt, there was nothing he could do about it. He was the school screw-up, even if he did manage to convince someone of what had happened, he earned it. This was a long time coming, of course someone finally broke and said it. It’s not like he had really touched him either. In everyone’s book, nothing had happened. At the very least, nothing that he hadn’t been working up to since freshman year.

He shifted his weight fully onto the table and stared down at his hands. They were still trembling pathetically. He didn’t know when he’d started crying, but tears were dripping into his lap faster than he could swipe them away. If he was being honest, it felt right.

Rich felt like he was born to be the nerdy kid, that small, freckled stick of a child that everybody picked on. Everyone else thought so, too, and played their roles accordingly. He’d been so stupid to think trading in the glasses and worn-out sweaters for grungy t-shirts and fingerless gloves would change anything.

Rich was a great actor. Freshman year, he figured he’d been typecast for too long, it was time to try out for a new role. It was easy to convince the other kids he was a badass once he’d told enough teachers to fuck off. It had worked, better than he ever expected. He could finally walk down the hallway without being shoved into a locker, girls wanted to fuck him and guys wanted to be him (and sometimes it was the other way around). His grades plummeted, but it felt like a small price to pay to finally feel like a real person. Someone who mattered to people, and would be remembered. It’s not like he’d be able to go to college anyway, so what did it matter?

But Rich had been wrong. The first hint he got was Jeremy. He should’ve known his act was up the second his bright blue eyes rolled in like the tide to meet his. People like Jeremy, people like _Richard_ , shouldn’t have been able to touch Rich. But he’d sat down at the tail end of his lunch table like he belonged there. Rich thought he’d be a bother, some downright boring prey, at worst, or an interesting one night stand at best when he’d slid down the table to tease him.

He didn’t know if Jeremy was just too smart or if something about him pushed out the keystone in the carefully constructed walls he’d put up, but he didn’t seem to buy the image for a second. Or maybe he did, and he just needed someone to show him how to break out of his own role. But Jeremy made him realize one thing: no matter how hard he acted, he could never trick himself. Maybe the jocks didn’t slam him in a locker and the geeks didn’t dare invite him along to the Dungeons and Dragons club, but he was still that nerdy kid who couldn’t stand to be him. He didn’t know which was worse.

And now, here he was. Making himself large enough not to be picked on didn’t mean he was safe, all it meant was that he was big enough that the giants like Morris would actually get some satisfaction when they crushed him. He had nothing, he was going nowhere, and the one good thing that had come into his life in three years… Well, he’d panicked and walked out on him when he needed him most.

_Jeremy…_

He stared up hopelessly at the ceiling. The tears had stopped, but he still felt the stiff tracks on his face where they had dried, leaving just the salt and the sorrow behind.

Rich began to scrub at his face, scraping off the residue and any sign that he’d let himself break. But he froze when something caught his eye. He stood up on the table, feet spread wide to better balance as it wobbled underneath him, and took a closer look.

Sure enough, the ceiling tile above his head was loose. It came out right in his hands.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**12:54 PM**

 

With every passing second, Jeremy felt himself teetering farther over the edge of a full blown panic attack. He had no idea where Morris had taken Rich, but he’d never seen anyone look that dangerous in his life. _What if he gets expelled? What if his life is over and it’s all my fault because I didn’t do anything to stop him? What if Morris comes back to do a strip search and finds Rich’s weed?_

It was these thoughts, over and over, like some kind of neverending, sinister laundry cycle. All Jeremy could do was peer through the glass and watch it all tumble around. Except in this version, the soap and water were on Jeremy’s side of the glass, slowly drowning him and burning his eyes until he couldn’t see, but he still felt the cycle turning over and over and-

“OH SHIT!” A familiar voice reverberated from the back of the library followed by an ungodly crash. Jeremy whipped around to find Rich on the floor of the library, covered in bits of drywall and lying on top of a broken ceiling tile.

He couldn’t help himself. “Rich, what the fuck?”

Everyone else turned to look at him as if he was the one who had just dropped out of the sky. Jeremy let his head sink into his arms.

Rich, unphased, stood up and brushed the dust from his clothes with a casual smile. “I forgot my pencil.”

“Goddamnit! What the hell is going on in there?” Morris’s footsteps sounded louder than he felt should’ve been possible from the hallway, and Rich scrambled towards Jeremy, diving under his table just in time for Morris to throw the door open.

Without ever having had the chance to slow down, Jeremy’s heartbeat picked up even faster. From underneath the table, Rich locked eyes with him and held a finger up to his lips.

Morris somehow looked even more pissed than when he’d left with Rich. “What was that crash?”

Jake cleared his throat and looked Morris in the eye. “Uh, what crash?”

Morris pinched the bridge of his nose and the veins in his forehead bulged. Jeremy was a little concerned he was about to have an aneurysm. “I was in my office, and I heard a crash!”

Feeling a spark of bravery, Jeremy looked up at him. “Could you describe the crash, sir?”

Morris jabbed a finger at him. “Watch your mouth, kid, I am _out_ of patience for the day.”

Jeremy’s table shook violently as Rich thumped his head against the bottom in an attempt to move around.

“What is that? What is that noise?” Morris demanded.

Jeremy began tapping rhythmically on the table in a panic, trying to cover. Behind him, Jenna slammed her feet on the floor, and Jake began whistling across the room. Rich pounded a fist on the bottom of the table with a smirk.

“What noise?” Jake asked.

“Really sir, there wasn’t any noise,” Chloe said.

Jeremy was held captive by Morris’s glare until he felt a soft, tickling sensation moving up his leg. He looked down to find Rich, just barely holding back a laugh as he traced his fingers up Jeremy’s thigh. He didn’t feel like he was breathing but his lungs expanded and contracted wildly with no rhythm whatsoever. Without thinking, he let his foot begin to search for Rich’s and then, finding its target, stomped down to get him to stop.

In his surprise, Rich accidently brushed his fingers right over Jeremy’s crotch and he involuntarily let out a squeak of protest.

Without missing a beat, he transformed it into a coughing fit and everyone else joined in way too fast. _WE ARE ALL DEAD._

He tried to keep his voice from shaking as he looked back up at Morris. “That? Was that the noise you were talking about?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Morris glared around the room, budgeting a few seconds to meet each of their eyes. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I _know_ there’s something going on here. I might not have caught you this time, but know that I will.”

He threw one last helpless glare around the room, then turned and left.

The second the door shut behind him, Jeremy let out a wheezing laugh, followed by Rich and everyone else. There was no telling if it was relief or just plain laughter, but it felt good all the same. Rich clambered out from under his table between fits of giggling and Jeremy couldn’t help but notice the way his dimples dipped into his cheeks as he laughed, carving into that face which had seemed so hardened the last few weeks. It made him remember the feel of Rich’s fingers on his thighs, and he instinctively kicked him before he could let himself imagine it any more.

“You’re an asshole!” Jeremy hissed.

Rich shrugged. “Hey, I was just trying to get my weed.” He held out a hand expectantly.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but obliged and awkwardly fished around in his pants for the bag. He didn’t look Rich in the eye as he pulled it out through his waistband and dropped it in his open palm.

Rich winked and headed towards the back of the library, but paused and turned around when he realized Jeremy wasn’t following. “You coming?”

It didn’t feel like a question.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**1:32 PM**

 

Chloe had smoked before, but she had no idea what motivated her to follow the bottom of the barrel cast (and Jake) to the back of the library and let _Rich Goranski_ of all people roll her a joint. But she didn’t have too much to complain about once the high began to set in.

She put the joint to her lips and took another long drag between her carefully manicured nails, held it for just long enough, then let it go slowly, letting the smoke drift away carelessly. She could sit there forever, just watching it curl in the air with the warm buzz draped over her neurons and letting her eyelids drift closed every so often.

But another snort from the couch next to her pulled her out of it. Jake and Jeremy were leaned into one another, almost in each other’s laps, taking turns talking nonsense until they both broke into uncontrollable fits of laughter again.

“No no no, man, no. You got a middle name?” Jake babbled, hand clapped on Jeremy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess…” Jeremy drifted into a wheeze, which kicked up Jake’s bellowing laugh yet again.

Jenna poked her head up from where she had been leaning against the back of the couch and spoke to them. “I’ll play. Your middle name is Edward, like that sparkly bitch from _Twilight_.”

Goranski groaned. “Why’d you tell me that? Now that’s all I’ll be able to think about when I look at that…” He reached over and tapped Jeremy’s nose with one finger. “Beautiful face.” Jeremy looked like he wanted the couch to eat him alive.

“How’d you know that?” Jeremy asked, turning around to stare her down.

Jenna shrugged. “I just know things. I pay attention.” She said it like it was obvious, like everyone should just know how she watched people with FBI-level precision. If Chloe wasn’t so hooked on the gossip she dealt, she’d probably call her a stalker.

“Why though?” Jeremy asked, leaning closer to her. “Doesn’t it get boring? What about your own life?”

Chloe was way more interested in watching Jeremy than really listening to what they were talking about. There was something so entertaining about the way she’d barely heard a word from him all day, but getting him a little weed was like shaking a soda can and cracking it open. He’d barely had his mouth shut ever since he lit up.

Jenna must’ve noticed this too, because she stared at him intently - watching, probably just waiting for him to say something she could use against him. _Not that she_ needs _much after what he did at Jake’s party._

Jenna had started talking again while she zoned out, and it took her a second to tune in to what she was saying. “...Because if I don’t, nobody’s interested in what I have to say. Is that reason enough for you?” she stated, matter-of-factly. Jeremy nodded solemnly and looked away from her. None of them were giggling anymore.

The wheels in her head were turning slowly, only moving what felt like inches at a time, but after some time, it finally set in what Jenna had meant. Chloe suddenly felt like she had been hit by a truck.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**1:39 PM**

 

“What would I do for a million bucks? Well, as little as I had to, I guess…” Jake shrugged. He was at the point in his high where all he really wanted to do was take a nap, or maybe just lay down and look at some stars, but Chloe thought mind games would be more fun. It was also the middle of the day.

“That’s boring.” She said, crossing her arms. “You have to do better than that.”

Jake rolled his eyes back into his head and slid farther down on the carpet. He couldn’t pinpoint when they’d all moved down to a circle on the floor, but it felt right. “Well how do _you_ want me to answer, then.”

Chloe threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t know, you’re supposed to actually think about it. Find your absolute limit. Like… I don’t know, would you show up to school naked?”

Jake laughed, but Chloe continued to stare at him expectantly, so he forced himself to reign it in. “Well, uh… Do I have to get out of the car?”

“Duh.”

“In the spring or in the winter?” He sat up a little more.

“It doesn’t matter…”

“Yeah it does, I need to know if my dick will freeze off!” He snorted.

Chloe groaned. “Fine, spring. But like, one of those kinda chilly days.”

Jake already shuddered at the thought of it, but pressed on. “Front of the school or back of the school?”

“Up to you.”

He considered it for one more minute, ruminating over all that could go wrong (or, potentially, right) in the situation. “Yes?” He finally answered.

“Was that a question?” Chloe smirked.

“No. Yes, yes I would show up to school naked for a million bucks. Next.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**1:45 PM**

 

“You’re kidding. That’s really all you did to get in here? A _Saturday_ detention for having your phone out in class?”

Jenna looked Jake straight in the eyes and nodded earnestly. “Well did you _see_ Mr. Iconis that morning? He had a stick shoved so far up his ass I could see it sticking out his nose. I don’t even want to know what someone did to piss him off that much.”

Next to her, Chloe snorted and playfully jabbed an elbow into her arm. She didn’t know if it was the weed or what, but seeing her like this - unwound, _not_ two inches from ripping someone’s face off - was kind of unsettling.

...But nice too.

“I mean, what did you do to get in here? It had to be some serious shit for him to toss _you_ in the dungeon. Especially during a track meet.” Jenna asked.

Jake looked uncomfortable for a second, but shook his head and covered it up with a smile. “Iconis, uh… he caught me with my arm stuck in the vending machine.”

On the other side of the circle, Jeremy was reduced to snorts and giggles, and Jenna wasn’t doing much better. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Jake broke eye contact and answered her while staring at a plant across the room. “It… got stuck. I wanted my dollar’s worth and shaking vending machines is dangerous. You know people die that way every year, right?”

Jeremy sat straight up next to him. “Wait… I thought they fixed the C4 bug? It didn’t get stuck the last time I went to get a Nutrigrain bar.”

“I… I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jake shrugged. For once, Jenna really didn’t want to pry, but there was something in Jake’s eyes that made her want to know more. Not to add it to her collection or spread it around school. She just wanted to make sure he was okay.

“Jake…?” She asked. “Why didn’t you just try to get another one?”

He didn’t answer her at first. She’d spent enough time watching him and people like him to know that inside, the gears were churning, spinning desperately in an attempt to generate some kind of excuse. He came up empty, and let out a shaky sigh.

“I didn’t _have_ another dollar, okay? I needed to eat.”

Nobody spoke, least of all Jenna. They all just stared in a confused and startled silence. Jake wouldn’t look up at any of them. Before long, he seemed to feel the need to fill the silence with more talking. “I haven’t seen my parents in almost a year. I don’t know what exactly it is that they do, but I know it’s not legal. They’ve been on the run for… most of my life. For a while they at least sent money, but the checks stopped coming a few weeks ago and I’m running out of food at the house. They could be dead for all I know… I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Jeremy asked. He held up a hand as if he was about to pat him on the back, then hesitated and pulled it back.

“Who would I tell? The school? That’s a one way ticket to the foster system. What I’ve got here is miles better than whatever shithole social services would stick me in. Besides, who the fuck would take me seriously if they knew where I came from? That I can’t even feed myself anymore?” Jake took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I just have to keep myself alive and hope that whatever’s holding them up will go away soon.”

Rich spoke up from where he was sitting nearby. “Well, next time they’re in town, they should hit up my dad for a beer. Something tells me they’d get along.” Jenna was surprised, on the surface the words carried his usual sardonic tone, but his voice had a serious undertone to it, something she’d never heard from him before.

Jake snorted at him, half from shock and half in agreement.

Jeremy looked up again. “I think my mom should join them. She thinks I’m just a big failure. No matter what I do, it’s not good enough for her.” His voice sounded distant, and a little wobbly. “But I guess she’s right. I don’t have stellar grades, I’m not the captain or the president or whatever for any clubs. I just exist, and I’m doing a terrible job of it.” Jeremy paused and let out a cracked, half-hearted laugh. “She may be kind of a bitch, but honestly? I don’t blame her for hating me, because I do too.”

Chloe tossed him a sympathetic look before chiming in. “I hope my parents are invited to the party too. I can’t remember the last time I felt like their daughter instead of just some kind of mediator.”

Jenna felt a tiny pinprick of anger in the back of her head. She didn’t know how Chloe felt she had the right to lay that down overtop of what Jeremy had said. Stealing at glance at him, she noticed how much smaller he looked, how defeated he was.

She opened her mouth, but Rich beat her to it. He was leaned in close to Chloe, uncomfortably so, his gaze flicking all around her face as if he was… inspecting her. “Hey Chloe,” He said, flicking a hand up to pull at her ear. “Tell me, are those real diamonds?”

“What? What does that matter?” She flicked his hand away defensively.

“I’m just curious, did you buy those yourself? Did you get some dirt under those pretty nails of yours to earn the money for those earrings?”

“Back off,” Chloe spat.

Rich leaned right up to her ear and stage-whispered, “...Or did your daddy buy you those?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“He bought those for you, didn’t he? I bet they were a Christmas present, weren’t they? You know what I got for Christmas this year? A beer bottle to the head.” He wasn’t looking at Chloe anymore, and Jenna knew he wasn’t kidding. “So go cry to your daddy, don’t cry here, okay? Not like you’d ruin that eyeliner or anything.”

Jenna’s mouth had been dry ever since Chloe opened hers, but she finally chimed in. “Your parents love you, Chloe, it shows. That’s more than I think a lot of us can say. If you have an issue, _talk to them_. I’m sure they’ll be glad to hear from you.”

Chloe tugged at the sleeves of her blouse and looked away. “Whatever.” It was hard to tell whether she was dabbing at her eyeliner to fix it or to wipe away tears.

“Right, because why should you care what we think? I think the way someone once put it was ‘I don’t even count. I might as well not even exist at this school.’” He let that sink in for a second, then continued. “I could disappear forever, and it wouldn’t make any difference.”

“Believe it or not, I have feelings too. I’m not just this heartless bitch who wants everyone to worship the ground I walk on. Do you think I _like_ being the one to keep everyone in line? Who the fuck would ask for that?”

“Maybe you’re not heartless, but you _are_ a bitch.” Jeremy stated, matter-of-factly. He immediately slapped his hands over his mouth, as if he just now realized what he had said.

Chloe stared at him, and he didn’t dare to move. Jenna leaned forward. “No, say it. I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t just say that. Keep talking.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“I really don’t think-”

Jeremy cut her off. “It doesn’t matter if you want to be or not, you’re just so full of yourself that you make everyone else _bow down to the queen_. It’s exhausting.”

For once, Chloe seemed to be speechless. A single, mascara-stained tear ran down her cheek and she half-heartedly swiped it away. “I don't know, I don't… you don't understand… you don't. You have no idea the kind of pressure I’m under. You think I don’t know how much people hate me? How they’re all just waiting for me to fuck up so they can all throw me under the bus? You could never understand.”

“You think I don’t understand pressure?” Jeremy was yelling now. His voice cracked in a million ways and his face was quickly becoming a splotchy, tear-stained mess, but he pressed on. “Do any of you know why I’m here today? Do you?”

Jenna, along with the rest of the room, flinched at the severity in his voice.

“Mr. Iconis found a gun in my locker.”

Jake looked up at him, voice dangerously close to breaking. “Why did you have a gun in your locker, Jeremy?”

“She hates me… Everyone hates me… Or if they don’t it’s like I don’t even exist to them. I don’t know how to… I…” Jeremy sniffled into the sleeve of his sweater.

“What was the gun for..?” Jake pressed, inching a hand toward Jeremy’s arm.

“Just forget it…” Jeremy mumbled, closing in on himself.

“Jeremy,” Rich said suddenly. His tone was serious, but not unkind. With his brow furrowed and concern and eyes so vulnerable, he almost looked like he genuinely cared for him.

“I was just considering my options,” Jeremy said quietly to the floor. “If not even my own mother wants me, then why should I even…”

“Stop that, killing yourself is _not_ an option, Jeremy.” Rich stared at him earnestly.

“Well I didn’t do it, did I?”

Rich sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “God, this is all my fault… Be honest: was it because of what happened at the party? Because if I fucked things up _that_ badly, I need to know.”

Chloe leaned over and whispered to Jenna, “The… party?”

Jenna only raised her eyebrows at her in response, and the realization dawned on Chloe’s face. To say this was the last thing she expected to come of the situation was the understatement of a lifetime.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**2:02 PM**

 

Rich could feel the walls collapsing down on top of him as he stared at Jeremy’s eyes, tears falling down like rain and misting his eyes like fog over a raging sea. _I did this to him. I left him alone._

“It wasn’t… because of you. That _sucked_ , I won’t pretend it didn’t. But I get it.” Jeremy took another stuttering breath and rubbed his nose on his sweater. “I get why people don’t want to be around me, and I can’t blame them when they leave. I couldn’t blame you for leaving, because most of the time I don’t want to be around me either.”

“Jeremy, it wasn’t about you. Not me hating you, anyway. I’m not good for you, I know that, and I think you know it, too. So I panicked.” Rich’s throat felt tight, like someone had wrapped a piece of floss around his esophagus and was  slowly pulling it tighter and tighter until he couldn’t speak.

“But you…” Jeremy’s breath caught and the words broke down into sobs.

Every atom in his body screamed to be near him, pushed him towards Jeremy with a gravitational force, but he sat rooted in his spot, eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t open them until he heard a soft, watery giggle across the room.

“It… didn’t really matter anyway,” Jeremy choked out through wheezing breaths. “The gun I found… it was a fucking flare gun. It went off in my locker…” He threw his head back and laughed like it could release all the built up hurt from his soul. “That’s why Iconis was so pissed… So it’s probably my fault you’re all in here. Sorry.”

“You know what?” Jenna said, giving Jeremy a sympathetic smile. _How could she do that so easily? Where had she learned what to do for him?_ “I actually don’t mind all that much now.”

Everyone else shared an uncomfortable giggle, but Rich couldn’t muster the energy. Instead, he plastered on that ever-present smirk and tried his hardest not to catch Jeremy’s eye.

“Hey, Jenna?” Jake asked. She hummed in acknowledgement. “You’re… not going to spread any of this around… are you? I know I wouldn’t want what I said to get out… and it wouldn’t be fair to Jeremy to-”

“What happens in detention stays in detention. I’m a gossip, not a complete dick.” Jenna smiled, but her eyes were serious.

“Thanks,” He smiled back.

Jeremy had finally managed to stop crying, and offered the rest of them a weak smile. “So, tell me if I’m wrong, but… does anyone else think Morris looks like an ugly Keanu Reeves?”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**3:26 PM**

 

Jeremy felt a chill in the room the second Rich had left. He mentioned something about a closet as he went, drywall raining down on the library once again. Nobody seemed to want to break the silence he left behind, so the ticking of the second hand became cacophony in the library once again.

There was just twenty more minutes until they were free… no, nineteen. Even after eight hours, that felt like an eternity. All he could think about was Rich cramped in that room, not even a clock to fill the silence.

Rich’s words echoed in his head. _“I’m not good for you, I know that…”_ He almost had to stop himself from laughing. Who was Rich to decide what was good for him?

Without letting himself take the time to think about it, he stood up from his table and half-ran towards the library door. Jenna made a noise of surprise, but he didn’t turn to face her, or Chloe, or Jake. He was focused on one thing and one thing only: Rich.

Jeremy didn’t remember sneaking out the library door, or tiptoeing down the hallway, or finding the janitor’s closet. He just suddenly seemed to be there, flicking the lock open and stepping into the dimly lit space.

Rich sat on a table in the back, knees tucked into his chest as he stared up at a crooked ceiling tile. He didn’t seem surprised to see Jeremy in the slightest.

Jeremy was the one to speak first. “I’m either about to make the best decision of my life, or a really stupid mistake. Just stop me if it’s the second one.”

“Hey,” Rich smirked. “Why can’t it be both?”

In a second, Jeremy was across the room, bunching up handfuls of Rich’s shirt in his fists and staring him straight in the face. It was a lot scarier without the screen of alcohol to shield him, but he knew exactly what he had to do, and nothing was going to stop him.

With one quick inhale, he pulled Rich in and stretched out his jaw so their lips could meet. There wasn’t a buildup, just the fast, hungry movement of Rich’s lips against his. Jeremy could feel Rich’s cockiness as they moved in tandem, the corner of Rich’s mouth turning up ever so slightly with satisfaction. _Cheeky bastard._ Jeremy bit down on Rich’s bottom lip, causing the other boy to let out a half-squeak. Rich traced a hand up Jeremy’s neck as they continued, the surprisingly soft touch making Jeremy sigh with contentment.

This was, decidedly, the best mistake of his life.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**3:28 PM**

 

Jenna didn’t need to speculate about where Jeremy went, they all knew. Instead, it dawned on her that they’d been given an assignment when they’d first arrived. “So like… do you think we’ll get in trouble if we don’t write our papers?” She asked no one in particular.

“That’s a definite no,” Jake answered, crumpling his sheet into a ball and tossing it just as Rich had, what seemed like months ago now. Unlike Rich, he sank it perfectly into the trash can.

“You know, I kinda want to write one anyway. Just for Morris. A little gift from all of us. What do you think?” Jenna smirked up at Chloe.

Chloe smiled back, more genuinely than she’d ever seen from her. “Go for it, I’ve heard you’re a pretty great writer.”

“I think we’d all say about the same thing, anyway,” Jake chuckled.

Jenna noddedly dutifully, and picked up her pencil.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**3:50 PM**

Rich had just enough time to straighten out his clothes between Jeremy slinking back to the library and Morris returning to release him from his prison. He held Rich captive in a cold glare for one more second before stepping out of the way. “Time’s up, Goranski,” he muttered.

He was tempted to spit on the asshole’s shoes as he left, but all it took was one recollection of Jeremy’s tongue sliding against his to remember he didn’t have to. Morris was just a sad man, he didn’t have the balls to feel anything but a cold dissatisfaction with his lot in life, so he took it out on people like Rich.

But Rich wasn’t going to let any asshole drag him down. Not today, and especially not now. His steps fell into a swaggering rhythm, and he tucked his sunglasses onto his face before he ever reached the door.

Mr. Reyes was mopping up in the entryway, and Rich gave him a quick wave. “See you next Saturday, Mr. Heere.”

“Yes, you… What did you just call me?” The janitor stuttered.

“Nothing, I’ll see you around.”

Jeremy was waiting for him on the front steps of the school. He was never one to be easily flustered, but something about the sight of him just taking in the sun brought a slight tinge of red to his cheeks.

“That’s a nice bandana,” he pointed at the bright red fabric wrapped around Jeremy’s wrist. “Any chance you could tell me where you got it?”

“What happens in detention stays in detention,” Jeremy snickered.

“Well I hope that’s not the case for _everything_ ,” Rich muttered, pulling Jeremy in by the waist. He glanced up to make sure no one was watching, then let his lips graze Jeremy’s for a moment.

Their embrace was broken the second Jeremy’s mom screeched up to the school, but even as he watched him drive away he could still feel the memory of him on his lips. Rich wasn’t going to let Jeremy forget him again, not that easily.

 

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_Dear Mr. Morris...we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, because what we did was wrong.  But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are, what do you care? You see us as you want to see us… in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.  You see us as a nerd, an athlete, a gossip, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed, But what we found out is that each one of us is a nerd, an athlete, a gossip, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question?_

_Sincerely Yours,_

_The Breakfast Club_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! as always, kudos and comments are soooo appreciated! once again, please check out the wonderful artist I was paired with for this event, @sapphicstarshine on instagram! she did such a wonderful job with the art for this fic and I couldn't have asked for a better piece <3
> 
> if you're interested, I also made a playlist for this fic which you can listen to here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CVPR2wns2CO6YkPQECoIF
> 
> aaaand I think that's all. thanks again for reading! - Mik <3


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